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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363376">warm animals</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedpearl/pseuds/jadedpearl'>jadedpearl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Banter, Fluff, M/M, cause that's all i write baby, if they aren’t constantly talking what’s the point, they're like....early mid twenties in this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:20:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedpearl/pseuds/jadedpearl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Morning,” the guy says cheerily. “Want some cereal?” </p>
<p>He’s only wearing boxers. Eddie cuts his eyes frantically to Ben, who’s also sitting at the table, cautiously eating his own breakfast. The best he can offer Eddie, apparently, is a helpless shrug. </p>
<p>Eddie blinks again, looks back to the guy, who’s name he knows that he knows. Probably. He’s like 80% sure it’s rattling around in his head somewhere, right behind What the fuck.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>225</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>warm animals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi im in my twenties and I want to act like it but *waves vaguely at general world events* so, this</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eddie wakes up on Sunday morning and notes, with a touch of relief, that the other side of the bed is empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His entire body is stiff in the good way; the stay out late, bring someone home, not enough sleep way. His shoulders pop when he stretches, and then he’s reaching over to check the time. It’s almost ten – no wonder the guy is already gone. Maybe he should sleep in late like this every time someone sleeps over, so he can avoid awkwardly kicking them out in the morning altogether. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can hear the slight sounds of movement in the apartment beyond his bedroom door, though, which means that Ben is probably,  meaning that Eddie should be too. He can’t remember if they have plans today or not, but he pulls on a crumpled t shirt off his floor, already preparing an apology to Ben for bringing someone home late. Again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is, until he walks into the living room to see a guy – </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>guy, the one who slept in Eddie’s bed last night – at their small dining table, eating breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um,” Eddie says intelligently, and blinks twice, like the almost-stranger is  gonna magically disappear. But no, he’s still there, thick glasses and curling hair and </span>
  <em>
    <span>bare chest </span>
  </em>
  <span>and all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning,” the guy says cheerily. “Want some cereal?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s only wearing boxers. Eddie cuts his eyes frantically to Ben, who’s also sitting at the table, cautiously eating his own breakfast. The best he can offer Eddie, apparently, is a helpless shrug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie blinks again, looks back to the guy, who’s name he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he knows. Probably. He’s like 80% sure it’s rattling around in his head somewhere, right behind </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Where’s your shirt?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t like the smirk that spreads slowly across the guy’s face as he points his spoon at Eddie’s chest. He glances down, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the shirt he picked up off his floor is obviously </span>
  <em>
    <span>this guy’s. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Which Eddie really should have known, because it’s a size too big and has a hole right by the collar. Plus, it’s for a band that he’s never heard of. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie tries to tamp down the heat rising to his face. “Look – “ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richie.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Look, Richie – “ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you gonna give it back?” Richie drawls, resting his chin in his hand lazily.  His eyes sweep up and down Eddie’s body in a way that really fucking annoys Eddie, even though they’ve – </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh God</span>
  </em>
  <span> – definitely seen each other naked. Or at least partially naked. “You should keep it. I think it’s kinda cute on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How did he get this guy to his apartment without realizing how </span>
  </em>
  <span>annoying </span>
  <em>
    <span>he is? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Third option, I throw it out.” Eddie says flatly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what I’m hearing is you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to stay naked.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Half naked,” Eddie corrects, and then feels himself flush more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naked! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He reminds himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You! Have! Seen! This! Man! Naked! Ignore his bullshit! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t work. “If I borrow </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> shirt, it’ll be like, a crop top,” Richie points out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking – you’re not gonna get me to take the shirt off,” Eddie says, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. He realizes that they still have an audience, and Ben has been oh so helpfully looking back and forth between them like he’s watching a tennis match. “Look, just – not to be rude, or anything, but how long are you staying? I have places to be.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t want me to hang around?” Richie pouts, but he’s clearly not that upset or offended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Eddie says, clipped. “Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hang around?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is a nightmare. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie shrugs, and then lifts the cereal bowl to his mouth to slurp the last of the milk noisily. Ben winces. Eddie feels his left eye start to twitch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, so,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “My apartment is being fumigated.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>bugs</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Eddie asks incredulously, taking a step back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No,” Richie says, indignantly. Then he tilts his head. “I mean, yes, but like, ants. It’s not really fumigating, there’s just a guy. Harmless, really! Anyway, I have to kill time until that’s done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And, what, you think you’re gonna stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>here </span>
  </em>
  <span>for – what – a couple of  days?” Eddie asks incredulously. Ben opens his mouth, and Eddie turns to him. “Absolutely not, Ben. We don’t know this guy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we know each other a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Richie mutters, plunking his spoon into the empty cereal bowl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie scowls at him. “Was that your plan? Get someone to take you home like a stray dog?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie blinks. “What the fuck? No, I got the text this morning. My landlord is an asshole. Like who the fuck wakes up at seven, anyway?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie crosses his arms tighter across his body. “I do.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Usually. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Richie drawls, on cue. “But, no, really, it’s only a couple of hours.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So just go to a coffee shop,” Eddie says, aware that his eyebrows are inching down lower and lower. “Or see a movie.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would I do that when you’re right here? We could like, hang out. You know, like, friends.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not my friend,” Eddie says slowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his credit, Richie doesn’t seemed deterred by Eddie’s continued rudeness. He actually seems to be enjoying  it. “Yet! Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have an awfully optimistic view of people.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s worked out for me so far, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Eddie says, throwing his hands up. “Fine, Jesus. Just – stop talking.” He wasn’t hungover when he woke up, but a headache is slowly creeping in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You talk so sweet,” Richie says, stretching his arms above his head. The muscles of his back shift, and he has moles scattered across his shoulders. Eddie remembers this now. “Just like your mother.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking – “ Eddie says, over Ben’s stifled laughter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Traitor. “</span>
  </em>
  <span>Just – go get dressed. For fuck’s sake.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie smiles facetiously, holding out his hand. “Gladly! But uh, I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to go all Keanu in My Own Private Idaho</span>
  <em>
    <span>,</span>
  </em>
  <span> so if you don’t mind…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Eddie says. “Here’s your fucking shirt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t miss the way Richie’s smile widens as he pulls it over his head, and he only laughs when Eddie throws it in his face. “Just gotta take a leak and find my pants. Meet you at the door?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie scrubs his face in his hands and groans. Richie just laughs again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie waits until Richie’s done ambling down the hall to find his pants before he turns to Ben, who immediately puts his hands up at the look on Eddie’s face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he says defensively. “He doesn’t seem that bad.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not that bad? </span>
  </em>
  <span> How could you </span>
  <em>
    <span>encourage him</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eddie,” Ben says, sliding over a coffee cup, just the way he likes it. “How did I encourage him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben is dead to him, Eddie decides, but he’ll take the coffee. Only because he’s cold and hungover and has a day ahead of him, apparently. “Don’t play games with me, Hanscom. You didn’t even try to get me out of that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why should I?” Ben takes a sip of his own coffee. “I think it could be good for you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good for me,” Eddie repeats flatly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know. Seeing a guy during the day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie narrows his eyes. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>slut shaming me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben rolls his eyes. “Come on Eddie. You know I’m not. Just, you know, hang out with him. See how it goes. Plus, you know, you’ve been kinda…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kind of what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lonely?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” Eddie says immediately. “You don’t – fuck off.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben has the nerve to laugh, a little. “Sorry, it’s just – hard to take you seriously in your underwear. Plus, I’ve seen how mean you are to the boys you like. It’s, uh, sweet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie gapes. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ben. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>– “ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, changing room’s free!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie swivels his head to see Richie leaning against his door frame, hands tucked behind his back. He’s mercifully clothed in last night’s rumpled jeans. Eddie tosses Ben one last glare before hestalks to the bedroom. Richie doesn’t make any effort to move, just smiles down at Eddie as he approaches. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Asshole. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eddie closes the door in his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Eddie emerges, Richie makes a show of whistling low and slow. “You clean up nice.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve seen me naked,” Eddie says flatly, just to watch Richie choke on his own spit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He catches up quick, though, stumbling after Eddie as he yanks his jacket and keys from the hook in the hallway, correcting with, “Technically, half naked.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bye, Ben,” Eddie calls over his shoulder, yanking the door open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside, it’s an annoyingly beautiful day. Eddie had hoped that Richie would be cold in just a t- shirt, but the sun is warm through the early fall leaves. There isn’t even a breeze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit. </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie jams his thumbs into the belt loops of his ripped jeans. “So, where to first, sweet-cheeks?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not </span>
  </em>
  <span>my name.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I know. I actually remembered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eddie.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie flushes despite himself. “You probably just asked Ben,” he mutters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie just shrugs, smiling the same stupid smile he has been all morning. “So, park?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie frowns. “I don’t go to the park with my hook ups.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, there’s gotta be a square around here. Something with a fountain?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie grits his teeth. Fuck. “It’s a bit of a walk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As long as there’s coffee on the way,” Richie says cheerily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, you didn’t grab anything when you were demolishing the Special K?” Eddie gripes. As bitterly as he can muster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m allergic to soy,” Richie says, gesturing for Eddie to lead the way. He continues conversationally, long legs striding to keep up with Eddie’s clipped pace. “And I used up the rest of your normal milk, you know, in the cereal. Which, can I just say, Special K is the saddest cereal I can think of. Raisin bran would be better. Point is, though, it’s cow tit milk or nothing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gross,” Eddie says. “And that totally discounts almond milk, and…oat milk.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, but the environmental impact of almond milk…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re really not saying the dairy industry is better than almond groves in California,” Eddie says, getting into it now. He gestures with a hand. “Like, greenhouse gasses alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm, cow farts,” Richie says. “Is that a Starbucks?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. And I like Special K.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie pulls a face. “You know corn flakes were invented to curb people’s sex drives, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, it’s clearly not working,” Richie says, holding the door open for Eddie. “After you!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie fumes all though the line. He fumes as Richie orders a stupid fancy cold brew. He fumes when he orders Eddie a muffin without even asking. He fumes that the muffin is actually really fucking good. And he fumes at the shape of Richie’s shoulder blades through his t-shirt, and his long fingers as he hands over some wadded up cash (gross) from his Pokemon wallet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s just unfair, is all. Richie certainly doesn’t deserve to be so tall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie does not thank him for paying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, really, what’s your deal?” Richie says, as they continue on to the park. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Meaning?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie takes a thoughtful sip of his cold brew. It has so much dairy in it. Eddie’s stomach hurts just looking at it. “You know, your whole tough as nails thing. Pretending you don’t like me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like you,” Eddie says automatically. Because he doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did your roommate say earlier? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something something mean to the boys you like</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Eddie a second to realize that he’s doing a version of Ben’s voice. It’s creepily close. He knows his ears are embarrassingly red. “Fuck off.” Then, “Your hearing is freakishly good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie’s face twists in amusement. “So, did you just go through a break up, or something?” </span>
</p>
<p> <span>Eddie chokes. “The fuck kind of question is that?” </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Just trying to figure out why you are the way you are.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “It’s just like… hookup etiquette,” Eddie says, at a loss and too flustered to pretend to lie anymore. “You know, we’re both like, that was fun, let’s pretend it never happened, and we can both pretend we don’t know each other forever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not always,” Richie says. “Not for me. Sometimes you get the other guy’s number and then you like, start seeing each other.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you asking me out?” Eddie says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Richie says. “Well, maybe. I haven’t asked for your number. But maybe I should, in case I lose you in the crowd. You’re so tiny, you know.” He gestures with his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up. There’s no crowd.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m losing sight of you already…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ve reached the shopping square in Eddie’s neighborhood. There’s kids playing in the fountain, running around on the cobblestones. It’s cute and all. Eddie is going to murder this man.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my god. Just, sit.” He manages to get a hand on Richie’s shoulder and shove him down onto a bench  Unfortunately, it seems like both of them remember something similar happening last night, because they both quickly break eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie coughs, and then he starts up a steady stream of commentary on the people passing back and forth. Eddie eats his muffin grumpily. Especially when Richie manages to draw a laugh out of him a few times. Then he just tries to ignore the pleased look Richie shoots him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to know you can laugh,” he says. “I was gonna have to break into the really disturbing shit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie snorts. “Good to know you’re good for something other than standing there and looking pretty.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aw, fuck. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie turns to him and affects some horrible southern drawl. “You think I’m pretty?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How embarrassing, admitting to the guy you already slept with that you think he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck it. Eddie clears his throat. “Of course I think you’re pretty. I brought you home. It would be an insult to my standards if I didn’t think you were good looking.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He expects Richie to follow that up with more of the same, maybe a jab at Eddie’s height, or his mother, but he’s quiet. When Eddie glances over, he’s fiddling with the straw of his drink. Not in a bad way, just uncharacteristically unsure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Huh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, okay. Maybe Richie is funny. And not bad looking. And Eddie’s been having a nice time, despite trying really, really hard not to…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Goddammit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie clears his throat. “So…this whole, uh, seeing each other thing…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie looks back up, mildly surprised. “Yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said something about a number…” Eddie’s floundering. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t make me regret this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks to some God. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t punish me for, like, trying shit.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie grins, big and toothy. “Aw, Eddie. Are you officially asking me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>forget that it ever happened?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! Hey, there’s kids around,” Richie says, but he’s absolutely laughing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “Give me your fucking phone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted,” Richie says, unlocking his phone and passing it to Eddie. “What’s your last name?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“…Kaspbrak.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, so,  if you see another one of those in there, it’s just your mom – “ He breaks off when Eddie tosses the phone back to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Are the mom jokes, like, a thing with you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll only get worse if you keep seeing me,” Richie taunts. Eddie rolls his eyes, decides he’s had enough, and leans in. Not quite touching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And then I get to shut you up,” he says, his breath ghosting against the corner of Richie’s mouth. “Seems like a good deal to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Richie says, and then closes the gap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s good, obviously. It was good last night. Messier, yeah, and hotter but Eddie barely knew Richie’s name at the time. He tastes like coffee. Eddie feels that little </span>
  <em>
    <span>zing </span>
  </em>
  <span>down his legs. Then he pulls back. Richie tries to follow, but he says,  “Hey, hey. There’s kids around.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Richie laughs, leans back against the bench. “I can’t believe it only took like, a morning to crack you. You’re really taking a step down, here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie rolls his eyes. “Don’t take all the credit like you didn’t shake Ben down for details.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the second time, Richie’s thrown off, cheeks a little pink. Eddie’s kind of addicted to it. He never does this kind of thing, and they’ve only known each other for – what? Twelve hours? Less than half a day, and Eddie’s agreed to maybe kind of see someone, but maybe it’ll be okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only the important stuff,” Richie says, “Like your star sign, and what you want to name your kids. Hey, did you know there’s a comic shop around here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah. It’ll probably be okay. </span>
</p>
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